


Thin lines

by Charles_Rockafellor



Category: Brian Boitano - Fandom, Figure Skating - Fandom
Genre: Art imitates life imitates art, CTC (closed timelike curve), Existential Surrealism, Gen, Jean-Paul Sartre - Freeform, RPF, South Park inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charles_Rockafellor/pseuds/Charles_Rockafellor
Summary: What happens when an irresistible division meets an immovable zero?𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒆! ❤️
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4
Collections: Icewall





	Thin lines

This was it. The final elimination round of the international South Park local skate-off semi-demi-hemi-finals. The only problem was that he had no idea how he'd gotten here.

It wasn't some euphemism for awe, or confusion over which hallway would get him back to his parking spot – he literally had no idea of what had led up to this moment, this exact second. He knew only one thing: skate. _Skate for all that he was worth!_

He could hear a song running through the back of his head:

“ _What would Brian Boitano do,_  
_if he was here right now?_  
_He'd make a plan,_  
_and he'd follow through,_  
_that's what Brian Boitano'd do...._ ”

_A plan. That's what he needed. Only he didn't have one. Wait – what would Brian Boitano plan? He'd wow them with a quadruple lutz!_

The lights dimmed, but there was no music, no crowd.

_Oh. Not another monster-of-the-week situation brought on by some wild and crazy kids..._

He pushed off, gliding out across the ice that seemed to go on forever.

_Actually, he had been sliding along for quite a while now, come to think of it..._

A dim figure appeared in the mists ahead of him.

_Wait, why are there mists out here?_

The figure drew closer.

_It looked familiar... something like... well, kind of like himself, really, and kind of like Brian Boitano._

They skated together, apart, separate systems of equations over time that were intertwined across different filter planes, non-interacting, but never truly without influencing each other.

He took that moment for his move, leaping boldly into his quad... so too did the opposing figure.

_Who is he?_

They weren't quite the same, one in shades of tone that blended and shifted, the other composed of garish primary and secondary colors with awkward angles, yet both feeling uncertain of which either of them truly was.

Circling each other, they drew close, never slowing, always moving, always watching. And then it hit them.

They knew what Brian Boitano would do.

He would skate.

And so would he.

And so the two of them would skate, too.

They danced, making love to the motions of their dance itself.

This wasn't mere art, it was life itself.

Each drawn irresistibly to the other, they knew who they were – and who the other was, who they both truly were. They were Brian Boitano, and he was them, he was the rink itself, he was in the purest love in the history of love, he was... he was...

Shaking his head to clear it, he stood there on the ice.

The last tendrils of some weird daydream clawing to retain a foothold on reality.

He glanced around, trying to sort himself out.

This was it. The final elimination round of the international South Park local skate-off semi-demi-hemi-finals. The only problem was that he had no idea how he'd gotten here.

**O ~~~ O**


End file.
